Editor's Note: A young doctor named Shigeyoshi Ozeki was commissioned as a sub-lieutenant in the Imperial Japanese Navy on the eve of the great Pacific war. In January 1941, he joined the Base Defense Force (Japanese marines) entrusted with the defense of naval installations in the Japanese home islands. He remained in Japan until August, when he received orders to report to Truk and a post in the Base Defense Force covering Japanese holdings in the South Pacific and Marshall Islands. On 1 December 1941, Ozeki was transferred to the Building Department of the Fourth Base Defense Force. Within a few days, however, he received a more exciting and dangerous assignment and sailed from Truk to Kwajalein on the transport Kongo Maru as a company officer in the Special Naval Landing Force selected for the invasion of Wake Island.
These two candid accounts, which were recorded fifty years after the war, were translated by Daniel King, an American executive who worked for Toyota Motors in Japan. Ozeki's reminiscences add an important new dimension to our knowledge of the Wake Island Campaign and make an interesting contrast to the many memoirs left by American participants.
I say this with all humility and honesty, but naval doctors were very respected and given honors and privileges that far outweighed their rank. I was only a shave-tail sub-lieutenant but was in charge of the care of men on two cruisers. I would travel between both ships on a pulley like device strung between two ships moving at speeds up to 30 miles-per-hour. Who said a surgeon's life is boring? I tried not to think about the time that the rope broke when transferring a load of mail to another ship.
As the surgeon, I was respected and saluted by men who outranked me for the sole reason that when one is 1,000 miles out to sea, one does good to curry favor with the only physician! The responsibility was overwhelming though. Unlike in the Army or on land where one could transfer a patient to "better equipped facilities," in the Navy you had your patient until he died or recovered. Woe betide the Guni-dono who performed an unsuccessful operation on an important high-ranking officer!
I had my first big thrill when the Navy had the honor of being held in review by the Emperor on the 2600th anniversary of the founding of the Japanese nation. I received a medal for it too.
The Fleet lined up in rows with the Emperor traveling between the rows carried by a ship whose name I cannot recall. We all lined the decks in our dress uniforms, parade sabers drawn in salute. My parade saber was light-weight compared to my combat sword, but that day it seemed to grow heavier each passing moment. Soon my arm began to throb in pain at holding this blade out from my side at an angle. I was silently cursing the Emperor, asking him to hurry it up! No, he wasn't a god, but he WAS a figure that could never be criticized!
I remained with the Second Fleet until December 5, 1941, when at 5:00 P.M. (as I was heading off the base at Yokosuka for a couple of drinks) I was chased down by an SP [shore patrol] and handed orders to immediately board a converted passenger ship, the Argentina Maru, and proceed to Kwajalein. I was to report to the commander of the NLF's UCHIDA-TAI [Uchida Company], Captain [Kinichi] Uchida, for transfer to the NLF task force that was assigned to take Wake Island. I had been transferred into the Fourth Fleet under the command of Admiral [Shigeyoshi] Inouye.
At Kwajalein I found that I had volunteered to join the Japanese marines in the invasion of Wake Island. As I only had a blue uniform (in the early days the Navy wore only white and blue -- it wasn't until later that men also received the green uniforms), I was issued an NLF uniform complete with jacket to which I had an enlisted man affix my rank. I also received trousers and a covered helmet under which I wore my plain blue officer's field cap. As a naval officer I already had my pistol rig and Sam Brown belt rig for my "Kaigun-to." In addition I would be carrying a medical bag and a canteen.
Sub-Lt. Shigeyoshi Ozeki, an "Honorable Naval Doctor" and a participant in the Japanese conquest of Wake Island. He wears his dress white uniform and holds the naval dagger mentioned later in this account of his wartime service. (Courtesy Shigeyoshi Ozeki)
We were to take Wake atoll for use as an air base in addition to the one we had on Kwajalein. The island was to be a cake-walk. With no enemy planes in the area our bombers would converge on the island and destroy its defenders before we had a chance to board the landing barges. Recon photos had shown that there were no enemy planes on the atoll . . . so much for naval intelligence! The enemy planes landed on Wake after our planes had taken the recon photos. In fact, the Americans received their planes just four days before the battle began, and it was these planes that attacked our helpless bombers which were sent over with no air umbrella.
Although the pre-invasion softening-up had met resistance, we were assured that all the big guns had been destroyed. The battle plan was to board the landing craft at 4:00 A.M. on December 11, and follow closely behind the big ships which would soften up the beach defenses before we charged in.
I was taught in the academy that an attacking force needed a superior ratio of 3 to 1 when attacking entrenched positions. As intelligence had reported that there were 1,000 armed U.S. Marines and 800 civilian engineers on the island I questioned Captain Uchida as to the chances of only the 450 of us taking the atoll. This would measure out to a 3 to 1 disadvantage!
He assured me, much like a father would assure a frightened child, that the enemy lacked any aircraft and would soon fold under our ruthless assault. What did I know! With the group leader's assurances, I hardened my spirit as I stood on the deck of the cruiser Yubari preparing to board the landing craft at 4:00 A.M. on December 11, 1941.
The face of heaven was against us from the beginning. The calm Pacific was stormy and choppy, tossing our landing craft up and down like kites in a typhoon. In attempting to transfer from the ships to the landing craft I saw 3 men who slipped and fell beneath the blackened waves. Several boats became swamped before the order to abort was given. However, the ship to shore bombardment would proceed as planned.
[Rear] Admiral [Sadamichi] Kajioka's flagship Yubari raced towards the island, before turning to pound the Americans with terrible salvos from the deck guns. I witnessed the shelling and thought, "How could anyone survive such a bombardment? Who'd be left to surrender?"
My thoughts were shattered by a sudden whooom-clang sound as American shore batteries hit our flagship. The vessel lurched amid ringing sirens and clanging bells. The thought of sinking in a ship, battened down and trapped like rats was an unpleasant one. Evasive action continued and our ship, which carried none other than Admiral Kajioka, had been damaged. Our task force limped out to sea minus 2 destroyers which had gone down with all hands.
The Americans were not whipped into submission as we had expected. We were hounded out to sea by fanatical American fighters who strafed us relentlessly and dropped bombs with impunity. Isn't it odd how each side calls the other "fanatical" and describes their own actions as "heroic?"
Why weren't we provided with air support? What idiot cooked up this idea? We lost 2 ships and over 500 men for nothing! Our thoughts were of revenge as we made a "rearward tactical advance" to Kwajalein for repairs. En route we buried our dead in the traditional Japanese naval fashion of wrapping the dead in white and dropping them overboard. Our ship would then circle the watery grave three times while all hands saluted a farewell. When we arrived on Kwajalein we were joined by the Second Maizuru Landing Force, which swelled our numbers to 800 men. Even with our new reinforcements we would still be outnumbered, but by a margin of only 2 to 1.
The decision was made to wait until a carrier group arrived before attempting the second landing, which was re-scheduled for December 23, 1941. In addition to two carriers, we were joined by two more destroyers and three cruisers, and I think a seaplane tender and other vessels. We were quite an armada as we headed towards Wake for our revenge.
Our air force continued to bomb Wake escorted by the newly added carrier Zeros that would turn the tide by downing the American planes that had bloodied our noses. Our fliers made short work of the American planes but the shore batteries refused to roll over and die. The decision was made that on December 23 at 4:00 A.M. both cruisers [in reality, the converted destroyers Patrol Boat 32 and Patrol Boat 33] carrying our landing force were to beach themselves and drop the men into the water via nets and ropes. It was pitch-black inside the hull of the ship as we prepared for the attack. They say that there is a tragedy/comedy aspect to war. . . .
We were awakened for assembly at 2:00 A.M. that morning while it was still pitch black. No lights were allowed, as we were closing on the island and didn't want to be on the receiving end of more "love letters" from Wake's trigger-happy defenders. We dressed, donned our gear, tightened our sword belts and chin straps in mental preparation for the landing. The whips were ready, the boats were ready, and I was ready, except for one small [thing]: I couldn't find my boots!
In the darkness I asked for help in finding my footwear my pleas were met with faceless angry whispers to shut up and get ready. I was TRYING to get ready but someone had stolen my shoes. Where were my shoes?!
I did the only thing I could do. Up on deck in formation the watch officer walked the line checking the men, until he reached me squirming nervously in my rubber shower thongs. He leaned into me and whispered, "The honorable lieutenant surgeon is an idiot!" An explanation was useless so I held my tongue, hiding a hot flash of embarrassment. I had hoped that in the dark my irregular footwear would be unnoticed but had failed to take into account the telltale "flip-flop" sound they made as I crossed the deck. I look back now and must agree that I must have looked like a complete fool hitting the invasion beach in my thongs, screaming "Banzai!" (Flippity-floppity) "Chaarrrge!" (Flippity-floppity)
However, I knew that I wouldn't have to travel long in those rubber thongs. I would either be killed in battle or would find someone else who no longer needed their boots. The latter was to be the case as there were men being hit all around me as I dropped off the rope into the water.
This map shows the dispositions of the Wake Island garrison and its heavy weapons during the siege. Sub-Lieutenant Ozeki and his company landed on the south shore of the main islet near the western end of the airfield. (Courtesy Hyperwar, Patrick Clancey, and U.S Marine Corps)
At that time, we didn't know the defenders were armed with over 50 heavy machine guns in .51, .50 and .30 calibers which were bigger than any of the automatic weapons that the NLF would be bringing ashore. They were well entrenched and waiting for us as we swung down the nets into the jaws of a hungry beast that made its lair on Wake Island.
As I slid down the rope in my shower thongs, the air was laced with beautiful tracers that criss-crossed towards us from the enemy bunkers. We couldn't see the enemy but we could occasionally hear their "rebel yells" over the whoompa-whoompa of their guns. The tracers were so thick they resembled spider webs.
Nothing is as enchanting as an approaching tracer round. It approaches you in slow-motion, growing larger until at the last possible second it speeds up and flies by at incredible speed, leaving [a] "vvllpp" sound buzzing in your ears. It appeared as if all the island's defenders had me in their sights. Their bullets headed straight for my nose, then at the last second they'd change their metallic minds and veer off course missing me by centimeters. It was my first time in combat under fire. I remember wondering, "Why are there so many bees on the island?" Those "bees" were bullets ripping past my head!
But I was still without proper footwear here in this bee-hive called Wake Island. My problem was solved soon enough as I found an "ex-someone" with what looked to be my shoe size. People do strange things in war, and I was no exception. I needed shoes, this dead comrade had boots that he no longer had any use for. The solution was obvious.
If the Americans were heavily armed, well equipped, and strong in number, we were anything but. We were outnumbered, humiliated by our previous beating, and a disorganized conglomeration of two different NLF units. What made matters worse was that we were to be assaulting this veritable fortress without any ammunition.
Of the entire force that was to go ashore that morning, only the officers and a few men with LMGs [light machine guns] would be issued ammunition. I can't say for certain, but I believe that other than myself there were 40 or so other officers of varying rank who would be carrying bullets for their pistols, and only a few light machine gun crews. The remainder of the assault group would be going ashore with empty ammo pouches, empty chambers, and nothing between them and the enemy but fixed bayonets.
There were two reasons for taking away the men's ammunition. The first was that if the men had bullets they would lay down in the sand and attempt to shoot at the enemy instead of closing in. The attack would stall and we would be driven back into the surf. In the Japanese mind it was essential to get in close, fast.
The second reason was that command didn't want the enemy to know they outnumbered us 2 to 1. If our men fired their weapons, the enemy could count the number of rifle reports and muzzle flashes to determine how small a party we really were. The inevitable counter-attack would drive us into the sea. We had already suffered one stinging defeat and a repeat performance was not permitted.
One did not doubt the wisdom of one's superiors in the Imperial Japanese Navy, where independent thought and reasoning were not cultivated. Besides, the NLF was trained using proven battle techniques time tested through years of combat in China. The bayonet charge was sure to turn even the most stubborn enemy to terror-stricken flight.
Unfortunately, none of Wake's defenders seemed to have ever been to China!!
Back on the beach . . . I lay there next to a dead man, wearing his still warm shoes which were a bit too small for me, when the maxim, "Advance or Die" rang through my skull. I tried to stand but was pulled back down into the sand by the weight of my gear. I was frozen, unable to move. If only I could rid myself of the equipment that was holding me down. I removed my canteen and emergency medical bag, dropping them at the dead man's side. All around men were hugging the sand trying to avoid the deadly shafts of light that darted out from the enemy bunkers with a sickening bang-wish.
I can still hear men working the bolts on their Arisakas, cursing, and re-working them over and over. It was as if a man would forget that he had no ammo, curse, then try to chamber an invisible round. The attack was faltering, something had to be done. It was then that I saw a dark figure raise his sword, issue an inaudible command, and charge the enemy bunker.
With a rush I drew my sword, threw down the scabbard and ran screaming after the man towards the enemy gun emplacement. I was no hero, but men do strange things in battle.
I presume that my courage came from the fact that I knew that hundreds of men would be attacking with me, and that since I wore a red cross armband the enemy would not fire at me. But my logic had a flaw. It was dark and the enemy couldn't see me and my armband. But even had they seen me, they would have seen a man armed with a sword and a pistol and no medical supplies!
I made it to the bunker unscathed and threw myself to the ground as I had seen the dark figure do. Next to me panted a man whom I had never seen before. I checked my flanks and noticed to my surprise that the dark figure, the unknown man, and I, the "honorable idiot," were the only members of the charge!
As I crept closer to the dark figure I could see that it was none other than Captain Uchida, the leader of the entire NLF landing force! I would be safe as long as I stayed close to him, I thought. A shower of tracers flew by, forcing us to stab our faces in the sand. I yelled to inform the captain that the men had not followed us. I shouted to make myself heard over the roar of the surf and American guns, but the captain failed to acknowledge me. I tugged his shoulder and watched in disbelief as his head limply fell to the side revealing a large hole in his forehead.
The bullet had crept right under the brim of his helmet and had torn a large hole out the back side. I wondered if he had actually seen the bullet that took his life.
There was no time for mourning, as I caught out of the corner of my eye a lemon fall about eight feet in front of me. But it was no lemon. One of the older men had told me that if one was within three feet of an American hand grenade "lemon" as he called it, you'll survive. They were reportedly poorly designed so that they blew up-and-out leaving a three foot safe zone around the grenade. I was to find out that that was not the case, but not until later.
I saw the "lemon" sputtering a thin trail of smoke and knew that I had only seconds to crawl into the safety zone before it went off. I crawled to get within arm's length of it but the faster I crawled the farther away it appeared to be. I kept hearing the words echoing in my mind, "Get closer, get closer!" I planted myself within arm's reach of the grenade, plugged my fingers in my ears and awaited the explosion. Nothing happened. It was a dud. I lay there shaking like a leaf, overcome by a sudden wave of drowsiness.
Fighting the urge to sleep, I closed my eyes for a moment. Upon re-opening them I found that there were bodies all around me, sprawled out like rag dolls. I could hear more men behind me preparing to launch a bayonet charge on the bunker. I knew these men who were about to throw themselves on the bunker had no bullets for their rifles. I also knew I should join them. I could hear men screaming "Totsugeki!" (Charge) but my legs would not respond to their cries.
I stared up at the men silhouetted against the sky. A shrill whistle pierced the air as the men advanced with a stirring battle cry. One moment they were rushing past me, the next moment they were gone. Chemically they existed, but as men they were gone, ripped and torn beyond recognition. As a doctor I was not unaccustomed to death, but what I saw that early morning made my stomach swim.
Even the most timid of creatures will lash out when cornered. Such was the case as I reached into my holster and pulled out my Browning, which was ironically an American pistol, chambered a round and fired off two shots at the bunker. I was shaking so bad that the projectiles hit the sand a few yards in front of me. What could I do with a pistol? I couldn't even hit the bunker. I re-holstered it, never to fire it again for the duration of the time I was on Wake.
They say that in war each man knows only what he sees in front of him. In my war we were losing. Those who have never been under fire will think me odd for what I'm about to relate. When one is lying in the sand, waiting to be sent into eternity, strange thoughts cross one's mind. The self is flooded with childhood memories, sounds, old friends, things people said, etc. . . . One thing that soldiers always joked about was that one's testicles would retract when one was truly terrified.
I know it sounds insane, but I lay there thinking that if I was ever to be "truly terrified," it was going to be right now, so why not test that theory and see if my "Kin-tama" (literal translation, "golden balls") had undergone any metamorphosis while I was preoccupied with the business at hand. Right there on the beach I arched my lower back and slid my hand inside my trousers for an "exploratory examination," to happily discover that no unauthorized changes had occurred.
The sunrise that morning brought more than the assurance of another day. All men in battle pray and wait for the first rays of sunlight to hit them before the next enemy bullet. This day the morning sun brought with it tears of pride. Here and there, all over the island were brave Japanese flags flapping in the brisk ocean breeze. The men were winning and holding their positions, even without ammunition.
But amongst these small Japanese flags was one large banner that stood higher than the rest. It was the enemy's Stars and Stripes. When the Americans surrendered I witnessed the attempt to take down that flag which was flying from a makeshift pole on a water storage tower. The entire island's complement of defenders had not yet been rounded up and there were a few stragglers and holdouts hiding in the bush. It was one of these die-hards that machine-gunned three Japanese men who tried in succession to cut down the American flag. The first two men got halfway up the tower, while the third actually got hold of the rope before being pummeled with flying lead. Whoever the sniper was, he either heard the command (to surrender) or ran out of ammunition, because the fourth man up the tower pulled down the "Seijo--ki" (U.S. flag).
The tattered flag was stomped on by several men accompanied by shouts of victory and triumphant "Banzais!" I bent down and picked it up, unchallenged by any of the other men, and gave it to a medic to hold for me until we got back to the ship. I ordered him to tell no one about my souvenir, which is how I was able to take it back to Japan with me in February.
Back in Japan on leave, I proudly showed it to my relatives and neighbors. I was still single and living with my parent so I stowed the flag with my blue uniform before heading off to my new assignment on Rabaul. I eventually also saw New Guinea, Buna, and other exotic places one would rather not visit again.
The American who surrendered to us were not the savage brutes we had expected to encounter. We had been instructed that in hand-to-hand combat to never allow an American "gorilla" to come within arm's length as they were all trained boxers. We were told that one solid punch was enough to break a man's neck. It made me laugh to hear from one of the POWs that they were told to stay clear of US because we were all black belts in Judo and Jujitsu.
I was the medical officer on Wake so I was permitted to talk with the POWs in their compound and became quite friendly with many of them. I came to enjoy my daily visits. The Americans were very cheerful and confident that their Navy would steam up any day and take back Wake.
They were smiling and saying things like "I wouldn't stick around here if I were you" and "Our friends will be here any minute to offer you some more hospitality." I couldn't quite understand their enthusiasm. We had beaten them. They were thousands of sea miles from their homeland. How could they laugh and joke? Why did they not take their own lives in shame at becoming prisoners? These Amerika-jin were very odd people indeed.
One incident that showed me the strength of American character and pride was when I, as the sanitation officer, asked the POWs to produce the man in charge of the island's drinking water. Assuming that he had poisoned the drinking supply, we immediately shouted as to why he had done it. After all, these men on this remote island had running water and flushing toilets; something that only the richest of families in Japan had. Why did these "pawns" have better plumbing than our "Kings?"
He replied that the water was fine and to prove it he would drink it in front of us. He did. We were still suspicious. So he asked to be allowed to drink the "tainted" water again the next day and if he was still fine on the third day it would prove that he was right. And he was. What struck me as odd was that he was proud to have proven us wrong. The following day the Japanese began drinking the water.
The Americans also loved their pin-up girls and radios, which seemed to be everywhere in their barracks. We tried to keep our men from liberating the posters, but the pin-ups of these American women were most invigorating. Women in Japan still wore kimonos or large baggy pants. The women in these posters were not the only war trophies. There were radios, typewriters, and other equipment that was labeled property of "His Imperial Majesty" but managed to disappear every time a governmental fact finding mission came over from the mainland.
The war correspondents were the worst. They had official armbands that allowed them to go anywhere they pleased, talk to whom they pleased, and take what they pleased. When one would leave Wake he would take something with him -- a radio, etc., for the black market. We had war correspondents visiting the island on a ridiculous regularity, even five weeks after the last shot had been fired.
I had far more respect for the giant sized mostly smelly rats that blanketed the island than greedy self-serving rear echelon war "correspondents." They printed what the government ordered them to print. Japanese casualties were light while those of the enemy were described as devastating. The folks back home didn't have the vaguest idea of what was really going on.
One day a prisoner whom I had become well acquainted with asked me if he could go outside the camp and dig up something important to him. I provided him a shovel and followed him to a spot outside the camp where he excitedly dug into the sand with the energy of a man who has just discovered a treasure chest. After moments of furious digging, he brushed the sand from what appeared to be a small trunk.
Opening it, he produced clothing, canned food, magazines, cigarettes and other items, which he tossed aside. I suspected that he had jewelry or gold hidden in the bottom of the trunk. He sighed in relief as he pulled a woman's photograph out, pressing it to his lips. He ignored me as he stood and walked, as if in a daze, back towards the camp. I quickly caught up to him as I knew that if he just sauntered back into camp he would be harassed by the guards.
I grew to like and respect our American "guests" over the next four weeks before I was transferred back to the homeland for reassignment to Rabaul.
The POWs had two doctors to care for their wounded, while the NLF had me. I have read stories about atrocities on Wake Island, but can assure you that none were committed, to the best of my knowledge, while I was the medical officer there. It is true that we did not distribute Japanese medical supplies to the POWs. The reason is pragmatic in that we barely had enough for our own wounded who numbered around 500. We had about 300 dead.
Many of our wounded men were soon to die from the horrendous wounds they received from the enemy's large caliber machine guns. As a doctor, it was a nightmare trying to treat all the brave men who had thrown themselves on enemy machine gun nests, armed with only their bayonets and raw courage. Since we attacked in the dark on three separate atolls at different points, many of the wounded died from their wounds. We had medics and myself there [but] it was dark and in the confusion of battle we were of little use.
The war ended for me as an Australian POW on a tiny island south of New Guinea. I was stripped of all my equipment by souvenir hunting Aussies. The one thing I wish they wouldn't have taken was my naval dagger. That is a naval officer's soul and honor. I still think about that dagger daily. The naval dirk is a symbol of not only his authority, but social status and even virility. No woman could resist a man in white with a dagger at this side! We had a saying that a naval dagger was a charm that kept away the three evils: Disease, evil spirits, and ugly women. Ha ha.
As a POW I worked for the Aussies building roads and airstrips, etc. It was hard work, but our caretakers fed and clothed us well and bestowed upon us better treatment than they would have received at the hands of our Army. I suppose it must have been illegal to make us work, but it would take time for our ex-Navy to get around to getting us all back home. We were told that the Allied forces were loaning us ships to bring the soldiers home from China and the Pacific, but it would take months. It took me two years.
I was eventually repatriated in 1947. When I returned home (just in time for an invitation from the Tokyo War Crimes Trial) I went through my things but couldn't find the Wake flag. I asked my mother if she had seen it, but she claimed she knew nothing about it.
Soon after I received a summons to report to Tokyo. I donned my Navy dress blues (minus the headgear and collar rank insignia) as it was the best suit of clothing I had and started off. Mother begged me not to go for fear that they would put me in prison or execute me. I told her that the Americans were not like that. I knew that I had committed no crimes and the American military was not like the Japanese military. They would not execute an innocent man.
I was
called to give witness in the beheading of a flier on New Guinea.
I was present, but had nothing to do with the tragic event. The MPs
knew everything about me. What were they hoping to learn? They
knew the answers to all their questions before they asked them. To
this day I have no idea how they were able to learn so much about me.
I was sure there was little point in lying so I told everything I witnessed
and was found innocent of any wrong-doing and sent home with round-trip
train fare in my pocket!
The first attempt at invading the island came on December 8, 1941, to coincide with the bombing of Pearl Harbor. It was the day before around noon, if memory serves me correctly, that the task force left the island of Kwajalein for Wake Island. The task force consisted of 7 or 8 ships including a [light cruiser] as the head vessel, mine sweepers, a sub chaser and other smaller ships. The task force was accompanied by 600 men from the Uchida Division Special Naval Landing Force (SNLF) which was technically named the "Yokosuka Defense Special Naval Landing Force". It was bolstered by 2 platoons of 50 men loaned from the Fourth Fleet which had the responsibility for protecting the South Pacific. That brought a total of 800 Japanese marines that were aboard the 6,000 ton Kongo Maru which headed out to Wake to capture Wake Island.
Captain [Kinichi] Uchida informed us that the enemy had [many] personnel on the island so he ordered that the men of the NLF would not be issued ammunition for their rifles. The men were to attack the enemy with the bayonet in the "Totsugeki" fashion. The second reason was that if the men started firing their rifles, the enemy would know how few we were in number and launch a counterattack that would jeopardize the operation. It may sound incredibly idiotic today to even think of sending unarmed men against a well defended enemy beachhead. But in those days one kept one's opinion to oneself and obeyed orders. I feel that if the men would have at least been given hand grenades it would have reduced our casualty rate of 124 dead.
According to my recollection, it was 4:00 A.M. on the morning of the eighth when we were to be transferred from the Kongo Maru to the landing craft. The craft was to be lowered to the sea from the side of the ship via wire cable but high swells caused the landing craft to bang against the side of the ship. The operation was being conducted under strict blackout orders which made it even more difficult for those attempting to board the craft. In the starlight I clearly remember seeing two fully combat loaded men slip between the two vessels and become crushed before slipping beneath the waves. It was impossible to load the landing craft.
It was approximately 30 minutes after this that we were encouraged by a broadcast heard from the fleet commander that the defenders at Guam had given up without a significant struggle. We felt that with even our relatively small task force we could toss a few shells at the island and we'd be greeted by a white flag.
All the ships' guns fired at the island, but for 10 minutes after we received no return fire. Then we were fired upon by what appeared to be 10 guns from shore. No damage was reported as the sun came up. The photos that our recon floatplane took revealed no signs of enemy aircraft on the island yet we suddenly saw two small enemy planes dive down on our task force. Our ships began to fire at them. I recall seeing the planes fire on us as they dove dropping their small bombs.
The first impression was that the aircraft carriers from Hawaii had come out in support of the defense of Guam or Wake. We had no aircraft (fighters) to defend ourselves with. The bombs struck two of the smaller vessels and ignited their ammunition stores which were filled with torpedoes. Both ships exploded violently before being enveloped in a thick black cloud of smoke, which upon clearing revealed on a few sailors swimming in amongst the wreckage of where the ships had once been moments before. The battle plan was abandoned and we returned to Kwajalein.
I later learned that the American public took solace in our defeat. They felt that it was a reward for what the Japanese did to Pearl Harbor. I learnt that the defense of Wake made headline news in the US.
The second invasion attempt was made on December 23, 1941. In the end it can be said that the Japanese invasion was a success, but our strategy changed dramatically for the second invasion attempt. It was determined that Patrol Boats 32 & 33 would beach themselves and unload the SNLF and the crew via 30 or so ropes hung from the bow.
I'm not sure whether I was nervous before my first battle or whether I was too inexperienced not to know better, but I fell fast asleep after we left Kwajalein and was awakened in the dark by a sailor who told me we were about to land! I hurriedly got dressed in the pitch black but couldn't find my shoes. I buckled my sword belt and my pistol, but couldn't find my shoes anywhere so I grabbed a pair of shipboard leather slippers and raced out onto the deck. They all could hear me flip-flopping across the deck, how embarrassing!
Captain Uchida was at the lead was we plunged into the water, which was about 70 centimeters deep. The U.S. Marines had not caught on to our presence yet. About 3 or 4 minutes after we landed, the Americans opened up with machine gun fire tracer bullets that flew along level at about 1.5 meters height. All the while I was looking for a pair of shoes. I soon found a dead man and put his still-warm shoes on.
After crawling about 20 meters ahead I met with Captain Uchida's adjutant who informed that I was to proceed on course north until I hit the airstrip, then turn right and continue. I did as ordered for another 20 meters until I came up against a hastily made enemy bunker. I turned around expecting to see my 30 medics and stretcher bearers behind me but there was but one medic on my tail. The rain of enemy fire was intense! If one crawled along there was little danger of being hit, but it was extremely dangerous if one even crouched low. I crawled another 10 minutes when I saw Captain Uchida get hit right between the eyes. The bullet entered under the rim of his helmet and killed him instantly. There was very little blood from the wound but I knew he was dead. I looked around to see 7 or 8 petty officers and enlisted men, but no one spoke a word or even moved a muscle as they stared at the captain's lifeless body.
I ordered the medic to peer over the slope and reconnoiter. I realize know that it was a stupid order, but he shouted out a brave "Yessir" and jumped up about 2 meters to the slope and fell back onto us with a wound to the shoulder. I told him that he would be fine and started to bandage the wound. Shortly after a "lemon" landed about 1.5 meters from me. I dug into the sand expecting a blast but it was fortunately a dud. I gave up the idea of proceeding further to the north and changed right to the east.
The sun came up and the area became brighter, but not our prospects for victory. I wasn't sure if we were going to win anymore. I still hadn't seen a single enemy soldier but was frightened by the intense firepower that they were laying down against us.
All around me were bullets and explosions, smoke and the sound of men screaming out for me "Doctor, doctor!" I know this sounds strange, but it is said that when one is truly terrified, one's testicles shrink up into one's body. I don't know what possessed me to do this but I rolled over on my side and jammed my hand down the front of my trousers to conduct a self-examination. The result was that I guess I wasn't really that scared.
The men still screamed for me. I couldn't go crawling around to each man so I set up a first aid station behind a 3 meter x 2 meter rock about 100 meters to the east of where Captain Uchida's body lay. I worked slowly to patch up the men that crawled into the first aid station, and my I think my watch read 9:00 A.M. I was exhausted physically and mentally. I had discarded my holster, bread bag, first aid bag, even my scabbard on the beach to cut down on the weight I was carrying. Fortunately the medics had held onto their bags. Still I had no idea of what the possible outcome of the battle might be.
I heard the sound of aircraft engines above me and, unlike the first attempt on December 8, the sky was filled with Japanese support planes. I think the planes above had difficulty getting a clear shot at the enemy because we were only 10 or 15 meters separating the two combating forces, but I still couldn't see the enemy behind the makeshift bunkers. However, I did have a few cases brought in where men were hit by friendly fire from strafing planes.
I also was struck by the fierce way in which the two grounded patrol boats burned after being hit by fire from the Americans. In fact, they burned for 3 days afterwards. Since their ships were grounded, crews joined us on the beach. I believe they may have brought rifles and ammunition, etc. . . . with them from their ships' stores. It was about 10:00 A.M. when we saw a jeep advancing carrying an American with a white flag. There were two Japanese men in the seat behind him, and he was yelling out "Stop the fire, stop the fire." He was about 30 meters in front of me when he went past from east to west. The Americans all began surrendering. I was so happy! I feel as though I had been given a reprieve from the executioner.
An unidentified enlisted man of the First Defense Battalion, United States Marine Corps, photographed in San Diego, California, in 1940. Aside from the tie and green wool trousers, he is dressed and equipped just like the Marines who met Sub-Lieutenant Ozeki and the other Japanese SNLF men who invaded Wake Island on the morning of 23 December 1941. In the background are some mounted and unmounted five-inch guns. (Courtesy Walter A. Bowsher)
After 3 or 4 days a hospital ship arrived and the dead and wounded were loaded for transport back to Japan. But before it arrived I was so busy with tending the wounded that my head spun constantly.
I was helped greatly by using a small truck to round up the wounded with driven by a Marine whom I later found out was Mr. Edwin Borne. He says I helped him, but I feel that he helped save the lives of many men by helping transport them to the hospital with the truck. Moments before, we were enemies locked in a life or death struggle, but when the fight was over, he worked hard to help his former enemy save the lives of the wounded. This deeply impressed me. I plan to continue my correspondence with him as long as my health permits. I also sincerely wish to visit him in the U.S. next year.
Pfc. Joseph Edwin Borne (kneeling at right) and two buddies from the First Defense Battalion pose for a photograph with a "hula girl" in a Honolulu clip joint in 1941. Borne was forced to run some errands for Sub-Lieutenant Ozeki after the young Louisianan became a POW, and the two men were reunited and became close friends more than fifty years later. (Courtesy Joseph E. Borne)
I would like to comment on my impressions after the fall of the island.
(1) I was surprised when I first entered what I thought were the enemy barracks (they were in fact the civilian's contract workers' quarters) to find the walls covered with pin-ups and pictures of scantily clad women! This was unthinkable in the Japanese Navy! Such decadence, such lack of discipline! The posters were ordered removed that same very day.
(2) During the early years, Japan didn't have "super radios" to listen to foreign broadcasts with. Our radios could only pick up the local government ran station called NHK which is now an enterprise but used to be a military channel. The Americans on this lonely outpost all seemed to have these expensive high quality radios for the sole purpose of listening to jazz with! I was shocked when I first heard the sound of jazz coming out of the radio being picked up all the way from the mainland U.S.!
(3) There were about 1,500 Americans on the island, of which only 400 or so were military personnel. All the men had their own job qualifications and took great pride in their work. I told one man to clean something and [he] replied by saying that was another person's job. The first man didn't lift a finger to try and clean the item, but instead ran off and brought back the man whose job it was to clean that item. The specialist who was brought in to clean worked hard and diligently. They all took great pride in being able to do their job well. I never saw them shirking or trying to get our of work. In our Navy we had to be on someone to do their job, but the Americans worked hard even without supervision. This is a quality I wish we had more of.
(4) This relates to the recon photos taken before the attack in which we discovered what we thought were two large oil storage tanks. We were given orders not to advance against them. It turned out that they were water tanks for purification and storage of the rainwater that fell. The Americans learned that digging wells produced no fresh water on Wake so there was a water purification specialist in charge of providing fresh water for drinking and bathing.
As I was the physician, I was given the responsibility of securing water for our forces. Presuming that the water had all been poisoned, I called for the POW in charge of the water supply to come and explain how the system worked. He volunteered to drink some of the water and let me examine him two days later. I checked him and he was fine. He then asked for 10 other POWs to be allowed to drink the "contaminated" water and then for me to check them again after two days. I did and they were all fine. I was deeply moved by the sense of duty this water purification man displayed. The Americans I met were all very trustworthy and hard working.
(5) Our recon photos also showed a beautiful large building on the island that we took for the commander's quarters but in reality was the base hospital. Of the two American physicians on the island (I don't recall their names) one worked for Northwest Air [Dr. Lawton E. Shank really worked for Contractors Pacific Naval Air Bases] and the other was a Navy doctor [Lt. (j.g.) G. Mason Kahn] with the Marines. They were both gentlemen in the highest sense of the word. They told me how they had performed this kind of operation and that kind of surgery, all on this tiny backwater island. It made me realize how much importance the Americans placed on the well being of their people. They even built a first-class hospital staffed with two doctors out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean! It made me stop and seriously consider how little the Japanese valued the lives of our own soldiers.
(6) During the war, both sides knew little about the other. One funny example is how on December 6, 1941, just 2 days before our first invasion attempt, Captain Uchida told us all not to grapple with the enemy because the Americans had brute strength and could kill a man with one knock-out "Hurricane punch." What was funny was the American POW's told me that they had been told not to grapple with us as the Japanese were all Judo experts! That was funny as most of us didn't study martial arts at all.
(7) The Americans and Japanese had very different concepts about the idea of becoming a prisoner. To us, it was the most humiliating thing that could happen. We were educated to never allow ourselves to fall into the hands of the enemy. It wasn't out of fear or what they would do to us, it was the shame that our families would bear if it were learned that we were POWs that forced the Japanese military and civilians to throw themselves off of cliffs and blow themselves up with hand grenades to avoid capture. I know this is very difficult for westerners to understand, but shame plays a significant role in this society.
This is why we thought so little of the POWs we had taken on Wake. These men had allowed themselves to become captives and were not worthy of honor. They surely must feel to ashamed to ever return to their families. The Americans were under the impression that they had done their best and had been ordered to surrender. This is why the compound was so lively. Men were joking, laughing, talking in loud voices, and generally not acting like POWs at all. Did they know no shame?
I often went into the POW compound to speak with them after dark. I talked with them in my broken English about their families, their hobbies, etc. . . . I asked them what they thought of their President. Much to my surprise one of them said, "I hate him, he's a rat." I asked why he felt that way about his commander? And he replied, "Roosevelt said, go to Wake, there will be no war, don' worry. The first thing that happens is a war breaks out and we become POWs. What a liar!" I thought that was so funny! I couldn't stop laughing. I'll never forget that.
Another incident that stuck with me was a man who asked me to allow him to go dig up something very important to him. I took along a couple of my armed men and followed him outside the POW camp to a spot where he began digging. From the way he was digging I thought that he must have hidden some gold or jewelry. He struck a steamer trunk and opened it to reveal a valuable cache of clothing, canned food, magazines etc. . . . that he quickly distributed to me and my men. He then produced a photo of a woman, that I assume was his wife, pressed it to his lips and walked back towards the camp. At the time, I was a bachelor, and was thinking what a strange fellow this man is to leave all of these valuable items and walk off with a photo of a woman! He can't wear it, smoke it or eat it? What possible good could it have done him? I know better now.
Another time I was in the POW camp in the evening and got so caught in talking with these happy, positive people that I lost track of time. It was 10:00 P.M. when a couple of armed and angry looking, worried, SNLF soldiers came and "rescued" me! I got mean looks from my countrymen for being so chummy with these shameless POWs.
Once I was with some POWs and they were laughing and talking about girls, and life in the States. I made the remark that since Pearl Harbor had been devastated, Guam had fallen without a fight, and this island had been captured, did they think that the American government was ready to surrender to us? The mood became suddenly very dark and sullen. The smiling stopped and was replaced by looks of determination. One of them confidently claimed the prophetic words, "We're losing now, but you just wait and see, we'll beat you in the end."
He
was right. Japan surrendered unconditionally.